


yellow roses

by Truff



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Hanahaki Disease, Heartbreak, M/M, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 08:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18246344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truff/pseuds/Truff
Summary: the hanahaki disease is an illness born from unrequited love, where the patient’s throat will fill up with flower, they will then proceed to throw, and cough up the petals, (sometimes even the flowers). one of the only ways for the disease to ‘disappear’ is if, the said person returns the feeling (it can’t be resolved with friendship, it has to be genuine feelings of love). the infection can also be removed through surgery, though the feelings disappear along with the petals. if they choose nether options, or the feeling is not returned in time, then the patient’s lungs will fill up with flowers, and will eventually suffocate.





	yellow roses

**Author's Note:**

> this was a vent piece i wrote and decided to edit for starker readers.

it gets him in the worst places.

at night when he’s trying to sleep, his eyes screwed shut as he tries to count backwards from 1000 to let himself be pulled into slumber.

at 950, he begins to choke. again, and again, and again, until a single petal forces its way up his windpipe and expels itself from his mouth, fluttering and resting on the covers over his chest.

he recognises it from sight that it’s a yellow rose petal. he picks it up with trembling fingers, examining the beauty carefully as if it were about to dissolve in his fingertips.

google tells him that yellow rose petals mean a number of things: apology, a broken heart, intense emotion, undying love. that all makes sense, though he’s not sure he likes the sound of that last one.

he falls asleep uneasily, his dreams filled with yellow roses and shining eyes that haunt him until dawn.

it happens during school. when peter has already turned up late to the lesson, he turns on his tail and flees when the familiar feeling starts building in his chest. he can barely make it to the bathroom before he’s coughing up more petals. all yellow roses, this time with small yet noticeable drops of crimson. blood.

he flushes the petals away, watching through brimming tears as the reminders of his lovesickness are drowned and pulled away by the current.

when he returns to his history lesson, he ignores the glances in his direction. his hands tremble and his breathing’s unsteady, and he knows how this will end.

it happens at home. when he’s got his headphones in and his music blasting in his ears.

(if you wanna go then I’ll be so lonely.

if you’re leaving, baby, let me down slowly.)

he screams in frustration and hurls his phone across the bed, but not before petals begin spilling out of his mouth and make him choke. over and over, again and again, he loses all feeling except heartbreak when it happens. this time the blood is noticeable, and he has to pick up the petals in his hands to throw them out of the window and watch them cascade to the street below.

even the man’s name makes him reel.

it’s not a surprise, considering that he’s one of the most famous people on the planet, but all he has to see is mention of one “tony stark” and suddenly yellow roses blossom in his trachea and send him into a coughing fit, worse than the last. he hates it, and he knows how it will end.

is this all that will remain of him? when he’s succumbed to the disease, are yellow petals how they will remember him?

he hopes. but he also doesn’t.

in a sick way, suffering works. physical evidence of his own demise, pressed and kept safe where he knows nobody will find them. well, until his final breath. when that happens, he’ll show it off. he’ll tell all, he’ll say “this is what you did to me. this is you, this is you, this is all you.” he never planned to be this spiteful, he was never one to be fuelled by hatred, but this... this is different.

when (if) he sees the man again, it won’t be like this. it’ll be different. either with no petals at all but with no feeling behind his eyes, or with love that was buried with him, buried like he will be.

but until then? he chokes, and he chokes, and he chokes.


End file.
